


Broken

by orlesiantitans



Series: 100 Themes [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 02:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5440247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orlesiantitans/pseuds/orlesiantitans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stopped speaking immediately when the woman herself walked into the room. Her armour was covered in dried blood, hair greasy and hanging limply around her face- she looked, frankly, disgusting. And wonderful. She’d never looked more beautiful (aside from, perhaps, when she woke up after killing the archdemon and promptly vomited all over his boots. The good old days).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

“The Queen has returned!”

Alistair’s head snapped up from the papers he was reading, eyebrows rising to his hairline. His lips very quickly quirked up into a smile, and he immediately rose from the table. Teagan, sat to his right, reached out a hand to grab his wrist, letting out a sigh.

“Sire, we still haven’t finished discussing the decline in the druffalo population- are you sure your wife won’t want some time to rest before seeing you?” he asked, and got only a look of utter disbelief and frustration.

“I’m sure the druffalo can quite happily wait until tomorrow, Teagan. We’re done here, and I’m going to go and see my glorio-”

He stopped speaking immediately when the woman herself walked into the room. Her armour was covered in dried blood, hair greasy and hanging limply around her face- she looked, frankly, disgusting. And wonderful. She’d never looked more beautiful (aside from, perhaps, when she woke up after killing the archdemon and promptly vomited all over his boots. The good old days).

“Alistair,” she whispered, lips turning up in a half smile, and he choked on a sob. And then actually began to choke and wasn’t he supposed to be better at this stuff? He’d been King (and her husband) for more than ten years, and the woman still reduced him to a mess just by talking to him. He could practically hear Zev in his mind.

_“Ever the virgin, isn’t that right my dear friend?”_

Ugh. He hoped the Antivan never, ever heard about this. He was fairly sure that he would spend the rest of his days hearing about every single time he’d embarrassed himself already, and no more ammunition was required. He felt a pat on his back, and when he looked up she was there, all _concerned_ , and he physically had to force himself to continue breathing, because a little choking could definitely be kept in this room, but he had no doubt the servant boy Zevran had _encounters_ with every time he returned would be more than happy to tell his lover all about how King Alistair saw his wife and proceeded to faint in front of more than half of Ferelden’s nobles. They’d no doubt have quite a nice little laugh about it, too.

And tell Leliana. If it got to her, half of Thedas would know about it within days. For a spymaster, she was _awful_ at keeping secrets.

But he straightened up regardless, and smiled at Elissa without even looking at those who remained in the room.

“Dismissed,” he mumbled, and he didn’t move until he heard the last footsteps leave and the door close behind them. Then, just like that, he grabbed her waist and pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely.

In many ways, it was like their first kiss. Their teeth got way too involved, it was sloppy and desperate and rough. But there was familiarity there too, none of the awkwardness remained in it, and love, so much love. Swelling in his chest, to the point he wasn’t even sure it would remain in his chest.

“Elissa,” he gasped out against her mouth. “I missed you so much.”

She pulled back then, and smiled at him- that, at least, hadn’t changed. He had a question in his eyes, he knew. _Did you find it?_ And it was answered a moment later, as she inclined her head and her lips spread wider. His eyes widened almost comically, and he put his hand to his mouth. Almost automatically, he reached to his Grey Warden senses, attempted to discern her with them. But there was nothing. No darkspawn. No trace of her in his senses, and he grinned widely.

“How?” he asked, and she spun around, raising an eyebrow.

“All in good time, my King. First, I need food. Real food that isn’t druffalo. And a bath,” she told him, deadpan. He sighed as he left the room.

He supposed he knew where the druffalo were going, then. Between the Inquisitor telling him that ‘the refugees needed them!’ and the insatiable appetite of his wife, it was no surprise the food had started to disappear. He honestly had to wonder who’d been eating more- after all, ten druffalos would no doubt do thirty or forty refugees, but only one Elissa.

He had to stop himself from saying so. He had no doubt she would have a few choice phrases about what the cheese had done to his waistline. He was half surprised she hadn’t mentioned the beard he’d started sporting. Teagan had more than a few things to say about it. Mostly because it had decided to grow in patches instead of as a whole and apparently looked ‘ridiculous’ for quite a while. There were still a few areas that didn’t have any hair at all, and honestly it was a little embarrassing to go to events looking like that but he wasn’t about to give up after protesting as much as he had about how much he wanted it.

He signalled to one of the servants that they wanted food, and then followed her up to their chambers. Chambers that had been his alone for far too long. The thought he wouldn’t be sleeping alone that night… and perhaps even have more than his own hand for company…

He had to push down the thoughts that came with that. Because if he thought about that, she wouldn’t get in her bath (and the fact that he wanted to sleep with her even though she smelled very strongly of darkspawn blood and death showed just how desperate he was).

She began drawing a bath, using some of the fancy new technology he’d had gifted to him by Empress Celene after the world had gone back to normal. It had running water, that came out hot and cold (through some miracle). He briefly wondered how Elissa knew what to do with it (because when he’d first gotten it, he’d inadvertently burned his foot after filling the bathtub only with hot water. This had caused an unmanly squealing sound to leave him, and he was fairly certain the last thing the guards expected to see when they heard screaming from the King’s bedchambers was said King standing naked in front of a bath and crying (manly tears) over his blistered foot. That was one story he was not able to keep from Zevran, and considering he’d received a note a month later with Inquisition heraldry that said _\- ‘Varric is wondering if the foot story is fair game?’~ L_ -he figured most of Thedas knew too. He could only hope that no one ever got hold of the story about the time he wandered into the mess hall at the Circle Tower back when he was a recruit in only his underpants. He almost wished he’d been the one told to lick the lamppost, really.

Elissa must have seen his face- a mixture of confusion and embarrassment- because she offered up a half smile.

“I stopped by the Inquisition on my way here. The Inquisitor was only too happy to let me have a shot of theirs,” she told him, watching the tub fill up.

“Now, go away. I need to have a bath and I really don’t want you to see the blood, dirt and shit I’m covered in.”

He smirked, “I like to see you naked anyway, it won’t matter… ow, okay, I’m leaving, I’m leaving!”

He began to back away, rubbing at the ear she’d pinched and returning the grin she shot him. He popped his head back in and raised his eyebrows.

“Just… out of interest… beard?”

He really needed to know.

“You look like a fourteen year old who just got his first spattering of stubble. I’m sure it’ll get better in time, though,” she replied, sardonic as ever, and he had to move because her top layer of armour was somehow already off, and a tempting layer of creamy skin was coming into view, and he was already beginning to lean against the door…

“Alistair, out.”

He backed away, hands raised.

“I’m a weak, weak man.”

He wasn’t sure how long she spent in the bath, but when she entered the room, dressed in a nightgown he could only guess one of the servants had brought to her- and smelling temptingly of Crystal Grace and elfroot- their food had arrived. He offered her one of the plates and she flopped down onto the chair opposite him, beginning to talk as she ate.

“So, I searched down in the west for a long time. Found a few leads, mostly involving Dragon Blood. So, killed one of the High Dragons, collected a few vials of it’s blood, and tried to track down Avernus. But he was nowhere to be found, so instead I looked for Grand Enchanter Fiona. Hence why I was at the Inquisition,” she gave him a sheepish look. “Also why I didn’t want you in there while I bathed. Because I kind of sneaked her up here and I didn’t want you to notice her. If she sneezed, or something. Needed you calm and expecting her.”

He almost bashed his head against the table. Instead, he just stared at her. He’d banished Fiona and if she was waltzing into Ferelden like that and people saw her- he’d look incompetent! Or something! Especially since his Queen brought her in. But Elissa, noticing his expression, just raised an eyebrow.

“Alistair, she helped me. She _will_ help you. She did something wrong, but she was trying to help her people. She’ll help us, we can help her in return. No Tevinters included,” she reached over, took his hand, and like that he was done for. He nodded his assent.

She grinned, and a moment later the door opened to reveal the Grand Enchanter. She offered him a thin lipped smile and swallowed visibly, moving closer.

“Queen Elissa… you may want to move His Majesty to his bed. Once you are finished. This process, as you know, can be rather… painful.”

He felt dread in him at that point, and looked up at her in confusion.

“How do you know what to do? I mean… we all know you were a Grey Warden, and all, but how did you get rid of the Taint?”

She froze up, and then seemingly forced herself to relax. Moving forwards, she perched delicately on a chair. Her brow furrowed for a moment, before she resolved herself and nodded.

“I didn’t make the connection until your wife approached me. The book she read it in was old, the theory not completely solid, but it made sense according to how I had the Taint removed,” she coughed, and he frowned.

“So… you drank dragon blood on a whim one day? Woke up and thought, ‘hm, been a while since I’ve had some blood to drink. But not darkspawn, no, I think I’ll have dragon instead. Variety!’,” he raised an eyebrow and she shifted again.

“Not… exactly.”

Elissa was looking at her plate, and Fiona was also avoiding his gaze. He leaned forwards in his chair and steepled his fingers over his mouth. They were hiding something, and he intended to find out what. He didn’t get the chance to ask, however.

“Fiona… you have to tell him.”

His wife’s voice was gentle, and the hand that still clasped his squeezed gently. He looked between them in a panic, fear rising inside him. It had to be bad, right? He’d come to expect bad things in his life.

Fiona finally met his eyes, and spoke, “When your ancestor, King Calenhad, first set foot on Ferelden soil the land was ruled by savages and threatened by dragons. He had to figure out how to keep the clans appeased and clear out the threats posed by the dragons. The best way to do so, is to drink the blood of one, mixed with just a slight amount of magic. This… concoction… can pass down. Through generations. It’s in your DNA, unless removed, and protects against the Taint.”

“But I still became a Warden. If what you’re saying is true, I should never have been able to go through the Joining. The Taint shouldn’t even have taken effect.”

Fiona nodded, “That is true. However, the magic was no longer present within you. I had the Taint removed, and you’re a large part of that, Alistair. We’re connected. I knew Maric, before  you were born. We… had a relationship. And the magic that ran through his veins and that should have run through yours, is the very same magic that cured me of my Taint. But it exhausted itself, cleansing me of the Taint, and so you were born without it. It broke my curse, but at the cost of leaving you vulnerable to it.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. One moment, he was staring at her in confusion, and then everything he thought he knew went crashing down around him. Because his mother wasn’t dead, she was sitting _right there_ , and she looked so _scared_ , and he did the only thing he could think to.

Walked over to her and all but lifted her out of the seat in a hug.

He was angry, sure. She’d abandoned him. But he wasn’t stupid, despite popular opinion (Morrigan’s opinion, really), and he could see why she’d left him. Her species, her magic, her Maker-damned _accent_ would’ve put both himself and Maric in an awkward position. All he cared about was the fact she was alive.

After a moment he moved back, and tilted his head to the side.

“I always thought my ears were a bit pointy.”

That startled a laugh out of both women, and Elissa finished off one of her sandwiches before standing up and leading him over to the bed.

“Perhaps it’d be better to finish off this discussion once you’re Taint-free, hm? I’d like it if you could get it over with as soon as possible.”

He nodded, and grinned slightly at the women.

“Let’s break this curse.”


End file.
